


is wide enough

by smallredboy



Category: Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: Angst, Character Turned Into a Ghost, Gen, Isolation, Post-Duel
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-01
Updated: 2017-09-01
Packaged: 2018-12-22 16:52:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 574
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11971596
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/smallredboy/pseuds/smallredboy
Summary: Aaron is alone, and his victim decides to haunt him.





	is wide enough

**Author's Note:**

> now im making burr suffer boy this is fun
> 
> enjoy!

In all honesty, it's his fault that he's so isolated. He hasn't answered any letters he's gotten, lounging around his house without much care. He wants to be free from the guilt that seems to consume him. Theodosia is dead, he killed...

He stops. He knows he did, but he can't bring himself to even think of it like that. Alexander; he'd always had kept his distance from him. He was Burr; he called him 'sir'. He'd never been a friend in his eyes.

The thought makes his skin itch. He still wants to scream 'wait!' at every waking moment. He'd— he'd done what he did. He goes to wash his face and tries not to look at his reflection.

Theo sends him letters. She's far away from New York. She knows what he did. But she doesn't hate him, maybe she understands, maybe she gets that he made a terrible, terrible mistake.

He breathes, tries to let his thoughts cool down. He has to relax. He's not been able to relax for the four months that have went on since the duel happened. Jefferson tried to get him arrested, but nothing was set in stone. He doesn't get why he did that; didn't he hate Alexander's guts? The only thing Alexander ever did in Jefferson's favor was what fueled his decision to challenge him.

Guilt wrenches his gut.

The sun starts to set, and he thinks this is the end of another monotone day. He's not doing anything for himself, he's not going to answer letters. He deserves to be isolated, to be alone.

When the moon is starting to go up in the sky, he sees a shadow in the porch. He opens the door; the man turns around. The greeting gets stuck in his throat.

"Alexander," he manages to breathe.

"Aaron Burr, sir."

He's not smiling; Aaron can tell he's clenching his fist. His face is a tad paler than when he was alive, but his hair is still as long and unkept as it was during that fateful day.

Aaron smiles sadly and steps aside. "Can we agree that duels are dumb and immature?"

"Sure," he whispers, quiet enough for him to almost not catch it. Alexander enters his house. His eye catches all in the living room, but he doesn't sit down. He's biting his lip, his bloodless wound inbetween his ribs. Aaron's stray thought of _you're in front of your victim_ gets put aside for the moment.

He doesn't say anything for a while. He looks around, and Aaron shudders. He's being haunted because of what he's done. He tries not to think for too long. "Coffee?" he offers.

Alexander huffs. "I'm a ghost, Burr." He's stating the obvious, but it feels as if he's been stabbed. "I don't— I _can't_ drink anything."

Snarky as always. Aaron licks his lips, nods and goes to make himself a cup of coffee. The sensation of being alone overpowers him, but now Alexander seems to have taken as a guest in his home.

He knows he'll sound crazy if anyone discovers he's with a ghost. But no one will, most likely. He grits his teeth as he pours coffee into the cup and goes into the living room.

Alexander looks at him, his lips pursed. He nods his head and sits down at his victim's side. Everything is silent, but he doesn't feel as terrible and as lonely in this moment.


End file.
